


I pretend you're mine, all the damn time

by rainbow_nerds



Series: I don't want you like a best friend [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alcohol, Drinking Games, Light Angst, M/M, Oblivious Steve Rogers, Pining, Pining Bucky Barnes, Platonic Cuddling, Pre-Relationship, Prequel, Strip Poker, Temporarily Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:40:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25495513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbow_nerds/pseuds/rainbow_nerds
Summary: Bucky was spectacularly drunk. He had been squeezed into Steve’s side all night, and his skin burned wherever they touched. By the time Tony had whipped out the cards and announced a game of strip poker, he had to go break out the tequila.Steve was terrible at poker.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: I don't want you like a best friend [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1846954
Comments: 25
Kudos: 172





	I pretend you're mine, all the damn time

**Author's Note:**

> This is a prequel fic which can be blamed entirely on [Jehans](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jehans/pseuds/jehans) comment on my Accidental Dick Pic fic.

Steve was having a good night. He was three beers and two mystery cocktails in (thanks to Tony) and he was starting to get pleasantly buzzed. The fireworks outside the window were dying down, and all of his friends were gathered in his tiny living room. It was a little cramped, some people sitting on the floor, others perched in each other’s laps. 

Bucky had been wedged in at his side up until about five minutes ago, when he had excused himself and made his way into the kitchen, closely followed by Sam. They emerged about five minutes later, carrying a huge sheet cake between them. Everyone burst into a distorted rendition of _Happy Birthday_ which had only a passing resemblance to the actual tune, and Steve blew out the candles. Bucky sat back down by his side. 

“Welcome to 25, Stevie! What’d you wish for?” Steve laughed and shook his head, looking over at Bucky with a raised eyebrow. They were so close that Steve had to lean back a little to look at him.

“If I told you, it wouldn’t come true, now would it?” Bucky rolled his eyes and nudged Steve in the side. 

“Killjoy,” he grumbled, and Steve just laughed. Truth was, he hadn’t actually wished for anything. He hadn’t been able to think of anything he could possibly want beyond what he already had, right here in this room.

***

Bucky was spectacularly drunk. He had been squeezed into Steve’s side all night, and his skin burned wherever they touched. By the time Tony had whipped out the cards and announced a game of strip poker, he had to go break out the tequila. 

Steve was terrible at poker.

Two hours later, Bucky was only down a pair of socks and a shirt, while Steve was wearing nothing but the stupid fucking American flag underwear that Bucky had bought him as a joke the previous week, and which he was not supposed to actually _wear._

He filled them out incredibly well, and it was _unbelievably unfair._

Bucky took another shot.

He looked up from his cards and his glass, only to see most of the people had filtered out so there were enough chairs for everyone. Sam and Natasha sat on the sofa, while Tony was in Steve’s art chair. There was an empty spot on the sofa next to Sam, and Bucky wondered absently if he should move from the armchair where he was squeezed in with Steve. 

Sam was watching him, and he raised an eye at Bucky when he caught him looking at the extra seat. Bucky flushed, and stayed where he was.

Steve was soft and warm, and Bucky was too drunk to care anymore. He burrowed into Steve’s side like he had wanted to all night, wrapping his arms around that tiny midriff. He felt Steve’s laughter, and then Steve’s hand started running through his hair, which was very nice. Steve was very nice. He let himself burrow further into Steve’s side, all but purring at the touch.

Steve was warm, comfortable, and perfect. Bucky’s eyes fell closed, and he heard the soft murmur of voices from his friends around him, felt the rumble of Steve’s voice vibrating in his chest where he had his head nestled on his pecs. Bucky knew that Steve didn’t think of him that way, but sometimes, when they were cuddled up like this, in quiet moments when he let himself get close to Steve, he could pretend.

Pretending was nice.

***

Steve waved goodbye to Sam, Tony and Nat as they left in the early hours of the morning, unable to budge Bucky from where he had draped himself around Steve like a koala.

“You want a hand getting him off you?” Sam had asked, but Steve just shrugged.

“Nah, it’s all good, he gets like this sometimes. He’s just affectionate.” The others exchanged a look, and Tony looked like he was about to say something until Natasha punched him in the arm.

“Ow, what was that for?” Natasha ushered him out the door, and Sam followed behind.

Steve lay back and drained his drink. He was feeling warm and happy. His best friend curled into his side, the soft heat under his skin from the alcohol and the company. Steve continued running his hand through Bucky’s hair. 

Something about when Bucky got like this, all soft and cuddly, made something deep inside Steve settle down and hum in contentment. He wasn't sure what it was, but it was right.

“Steve?” Bucky asked quietly. The corner of Bucky’s glasses pressed into Steve’s chest, so he reached up and took them off, reaching over to put them on the coffee table.

“Yeah, Buck?” Bucky nestled closer, and Steve felt sleep starting to overcome him.

“Should I get a cat?” Steve laughed at the question which had come out of nowhere, but he hummed in thought.

“Sure, why not? You’d be good with a cat.”

Bucky’s happy hum of response was the last thing Steve processed before drifting off to sleep.

***

The next morning, Bucky woke up with his head in Steve’s lap and a pounding headache. There was a spot of his drool in Steve’s boxer shorts, and he couldn’t stop staring at it. Steve laughed and pushed him upright.

“Get offa me, you dope, I need to take a piss.” Bucky was relieved that Steve had left, and doubly relieved that he had managed to keep his jeans in the poker game, because he had a serious issue going on downstairs. He got up to splash some water on his face in the kitchen sink, and by the time Steve returned, freshly showered and fully clothed, Bucky had managed to pull himself together enough to get started on their now traditional hungover July 5th movie marathon.

They sat together on the sofa, plates of greasy hangover food on their laps and coffee mugs on the table, and Bucky tried not to think about the point where their legs touched. He ran his hand through his hair, remembering how Steve had done the same the night before.

Maybe someday he wouldn’t have to pretend, but for now, he would take Steve however he could get him. 

Bucky snorted and took a forkful of eggs.

Yeah, right.


End file.
